The Fool and the Wyvern
by Mew Draiku
Summary: [YMxM] The evil wyvern has placed a curse on the queen, and it cannot be lifted until the king fulfills the wyvern's orders. Don't wanna give away anything, just read it!


Mew: I'm in a hurry while posting this, so this'll be short. Again, I'm sorry for not updating. Currently, Draiku and Yoko are bound and gagged so they can't say anything.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

The Fool and the Wyvern

Everyone always peels their onions before they eat them, correct? But do you know _why_ we as humans do that? And what do onions have to do with people being different? Well, just listen to this story and you will know everything…

-

The dragon roared loudly, its large wings flapping and its teeth and eyes gleaming. It took flight and flew to the castle. It was large enough to be fearsome, of course, yet small enough to fit through one of the windows of the castle.

The dragon landed in the throne room where it saw two humans, the king and queen, cowering in the corner.

"N-no!" the queen screeched. The dragon growled, smoke coming out of its nostrils. Its fangs gleamed in the light and it leaned forward.

"Heed my words," it hissed, "until you bring me someone—male or female—every child you give birth to will die a horrible, painful death exactly thirteen days after its birth. This is a curse, and it cannot be lifted until you do as I say!" The queen gasped, clutching her husband's shoulders and the dragon smirked evilly.

"Leave," the king said in a shaking voice. "Leave now!" The dragon turned and slithered to the window, smirking still.

"Good-bye, dear mother and father," it growled, then took wing and flew away. The king and queen shuddered and breathed a sigh of relief.

-

Later, the king and queen brought a soothsayer—a fortune teller—to the castle. They'd given up all hope, and were forced to turn to him. The soothsayer, Arukab, tried to lift the curse. After many attempts, the soothsayer sighed and frowned.

"It seems as though there is nothing more I can do," he muttered, brushing back his long, white hair and wiping his brow for the umpteenth time. Despite the color of his hair, Arukab was quite young, maybe twenty or so. The queen moaned in despair.

"But who will take the throne when we move on if we don't have a child?" she asked.

"You'll just have to send a maiden or man to this 'dragon.' By the way, it isn't really called a dragon, it's really called a wyvern, since it doesn't have four legs. You see, the front legs act as arms while it slithers with its tail--," Arukab said.

"I don't care!" the king snapped. "I don't care what it is! Just lift the curse, you fool!" Arukab looked indignant.

"You're the fool, your majesty," he snarled dangerously. "I just told you, I cannot lift the curse. It is beyond my powers, possibly even some of the demigods' powers. However, I can tell you who to send to the wyvern, one that the wyvern will want more than anyone else."

"Tell us, then!" the queen demanded. Arukab smirked.

"It'll cost you extra," he said.

"Fine! Just tell us!" The soothsayer grinned and wrote down a number. He then took out a deck of cards, tarot cards. He lied them onto the table in a strange pattern, until all of the deck ran out except one, which he placed in the very center of all the cards. That was the only one he flipped over. He examined the card carefully, then looked up.

"This card, the Fool, represents someone in the town with advanced, yet undiscovered, abilities. He watches only what is in front of him, pays too much attention to detail, and doesn't see the real danger that is slowly coming upon him. So, we search for a person like that," he finally said.

"And how do we find a person that matches that description??! It could be anyone!" the king demanded.

"I thought you'd ask that." The soothsayer reached into his bag and pulled out another set of tarot cards, but there weren't as many. He handed them to the king and wrote down another number. "Take these. Call every teenager to the castle—every single one of them. Have them cut the deck, then you will pick up the top card. If it is the Fool, upright to you, then that is your person. But if it is reversed, or upside-down, to you, then that is not the person. Understand?" The king nodded.

"Thank you, Arukab. What do I owe?" he asked. Arukab smirked.

"Four-hundred golden coins. One-hundred fifty for each reading, then another hundred for the cards," he said. The king growled and cashed out the coins to him, and the soothsayer grinned cheerfully. "Thank you, sir, I'll be on my way now," he said.

"Not yet!" the king barked and beckoned the guards to stop him. "Not until the curse is lifted. Then you shall go. Four-hundred golden coins is quite a bit of money for a peasant. Throw him to the dungeon!" Arukab growled as he was forced to the dungeon in the lowest part of the castle. He was tossed into the filthy room, and the door slammed shut.

-

A teenage boy with somewhat long, blonde hair and tanned skin was juggling small toy balls in an effort to earn money. He watched each ball as he tossed them carefully, and he tossed them high so he could bow to thank those who did give him a coin or two. Most knew him as "the Juggler" but his real name was Malik.

"Now, folks, watch me do one hand!" he said with a grin. He hadn't exactly perfected this—in fact, he had no idea how to do it—but the audience wanted something to watch, and he had to make it interesting. "…While I'm standing on one foot on this stack of crates!" he added. He moved to the crates, jumped onto them, and lifted one foot. He tried to juggle the balls, but toppled down to the ground in less than a second. The crowd laughed and he growled in annoyance as the balls rolled this way and that.

"Ha! What an idiot!" one man barked loudly. Malik collected his money and such before he disappeared to his home—an old house that had long ago been deserted. It was slowly falling apart, and it didn't work too well in the winter, but it was the only shelter he could get. His pet cat, Shadow, bounced over to him and nuzzled his hand. The boy smiled. He stroked the cat, who hunted for food on its own.

"You're a good pet, Shadow," he muttered. Shadow purred and climbed into his lap. "At least you don't laugh at me when I make mistakes." He chuckled bitterly and Shadow looked up to him for an explanation. "Just wait, Shadow, someday I'll be king of this land! Someday I'll live in the palace and rule, just like the current king and queen do!" The cat nuzzled him, deciding to pretend not to listen. Even Shadow knew that it would be extremely unlikely for an orphan who made a fool of himself for a living to become king.

"Let's turn in, shall we?" he asked, smiling as he lied down. Shadow purred and curled up next to him, closing his eyes contently.

-

"Everyone, you all might wonder why I've gathered you here at the palace today," the king said to all the teenage girls and boys in the room. There were quite a bit, so he had to project his voice. "Today I'm offering you a chance to become prince or princess of the land, since my dear wife, the queen, is not able to have children any longer," he lied. That caused some whisper amongst the crowd, but the king ignored it. "All you must do is draw the correct card from this stack in my hand. Whoever gets the right card will come with me, and I'll tell you how to prove yourself worthy of royalty."

The teens grinned and muttered to each other in approval. The deck wasn't too big, someone in here was bound to get the correct card.

One of the many servants yelled out the names, and the teenager would cut the deck and the king would flip the top card. No one in here had the Fool so far, and the king's hopes sank when the last teen didn't get it either.

"Are you sure that was all the teenagers?" the queen hissed.

"Ay, where's that juggler boy?" called one boy. "Shouldn't he be here?" The king gasped.

"Oh, of course! I suppose we forgot of him! Guards, go fetch the juggler boy!" the king snapped. Everyone knew of the Juggler, even he did. He was surprised that he had forgotten about the kind—yet someone idiotic—boy. Now all he had to do was wait. If the Juggler wasn't the one, then his royal family line would end.

-

Malik was shoved into the main hall of the palace, Shadow clinging to his shoulders like a wool sock in winter. He brushed himself off, glaring at the guards, since he had been rather rudely awakened by yells and thumps, and blinked when he saw all the other teens around him.

"What's…going on?" he muttered. The king approached him and Shadow hissed. Malik gasped and quickly bowed, dropping the cat. The crowd laughed, and the cat lifted its nose and sniffed indignantly. The king silenced the group and smiled at Malik.

"Juggler boy--," he started.

"Malik," Malik interrupted. "That's my name." A guard glared, a statement that clearly said "Do not interrupt those higher than you, fool." The king, however, smiled.

"Ah, I'll have to remember that. My memory's going, to tell you the truth," he said, grinning and chuckling. Malik laughed slightly as well. "Now, would you like to become prince?" Malik gasped.

"M-me? But…I'm just an orphan. I couldn't possibly become prince," he said, a bit sadly.

"Of course you can! Just cut the deck, yes, like that," the king said as Malik cut the deck.

"There's no way he's going to become royal," one girl in the crowd scoffed.

"He's an orphan, an idiot, too," another muttered. "If he gets the right card, I'll murder him!" They waited in anticipation as the king flipped the top card. Malik stared at them, raising one eyebrow as if to ask "What's wrong with you?"

The king gasped. He held up the card high.

"Congratulations, Malik!" he said. Malik gasped, eyes wide. The crowd gasped as well, some kids even cursed. "You have the opportunity to become the prince of the land!"

"Y-you're not kidding?" Malik stuttered. "You really mean that??" The king nodded.

"Yes, that is, if you can complete one simple task. Come with me, I'll tell you in my personal meeting room," the king said, leading Malik to a room as the guards ushered the other teens out. Malik looked around in total awe as they passed beautiful paintings and sculptures. They passed one of the queen, but she was pregnant.

"Um, your majesty?" Malik asked. The king turned around. "Why is the queen pregnant in this painting? What happened to the child?" The king felt faint.

"He—he died. Long ago. Of an illness," he said, his voice weak.

"Oh…I'm sorry for your loss, then," Malik offered.

"Don't worry, we try not to dwell on it here and now," the king replied with a forced laugh. Malik laughed weakly as well, not knowing what else to do. The king then gave the guards his signal, and they seized Malik.

"H-hey!" Malik yelled. "What are you doing??!" The king turned around and faced him.

"I'm really sorry to do this, Malik, but we need to make sure you don't run off. You see, we actually have to send you to a wyvern to keep it away from us. A wyvern is a type of dragon, and it wants some sort of sacrifice, almost. So we're going to send you, since apparently you're the one it wants. And we never meant to make you prince, you're just an orphan." The king smirked and laughed again, but Malik gasped and glared. Before he could say one word, the guards dragged him to the dungeons, where they tossed him into the filthy room.

Malik landed with a thud and groaned. Shadow ran after him, just before the door shut and stayed by his side. Malik rubbed his head in pain, petting Shadow for comfort.

"So they already found you," said a voice. Malik jumped. He flicked around and saw a man sitting idly in the corner, his knees up and his hands placed on them. "Nice cat you have there. There aren't many pitch-black cats out there any more because of those idiotic superstitions." Malik blinked and Shadow hissed.

"Wh-who're you?" Malik asked softly. The man looked up and grinned, the light from outside finally showing his true features. He had a handsome face and long, silver hair that cascaded down his head. At first Malik though he was albino, but the man had a pinkish tint to his skin, and his eyes were brown instead of red.

"Arukab the soothsayer, at your service," the man replied.

"You mean a fortune-teller?" Malik asked. The man chuckled.

"Not quite. I can tell fortunes and such, true, but I can also tell much more. I'm merely an advisor to the public," he said.

"Can you…see the future?" Malik continued.

"No, but the cards can. I simply read them," Arukab said, taking out his tarot cards. "Would you like me to give you a reading?" Malik nodded—mystical stuff had always fascinated him. "So, three cards, the seven card pyramid, or the traditional ten-card layout?" he asked. Malik blinked.

"Um, I guess three cards is fine," he said. Arukab beckoned him to sit across from him, and he shuffled the deck and laid out the cards. He flipped them over and explained to Malik what the first card—his past—meant.

"The reversed Star means that you were disappointed about something," Arukab explained. He flipped the second card. "This card represents the present. It is the upright Hanged Man, you see? You are learning to see the world in a different way—and you like it." Malik nodded, though he felt confused still. "The third card is your future. And as you can see, it is the Lovers. So, you'll find yourself in a romantic relationship sooner or later." Malik blinked.

"Who? Can you tell me?" he asked. Arukab shrugged.

"I suppose." He shuffled the deck and cut it, then had Malik lift the top card. He flipped it over and it revealed the Hanged Man, once again. "Hm, apparently, you'll meet a person who sees the world differently, one who cares little for material possession. I cannot tell you exactly who, but this tells you the type of person you'll be with." Malik grinned and nodded.

"And, I have one more question. Did…did the king and queen's child really die of illness?" he asked, suddenly serious. Arukab's expression became dark.

"No. He's still out there, though no one knows who he is or what he's doing." Malik tilted his head to one side.

"Then…why did they get rid of him?" he asked. Arukab chuckled.

"All I can tell you is that the queen should have listened to me seventeen years ago. 'Never eat onions unless you've peeled them.' That's what I told her," he said.

"You're kind of nutty, aren't you?" Malik stated bluntly. Arukab laughed.

"Yes, you could say that," he replied with a grin.

"And how old are you anyway? You look old, yet…young."

"I'm twenty-nine," Arukab said. "I think. I'm not too good at keeping track."

"Wow! Then why do you have white hair?"

"Why are your eyes such a strange color?" he scoffed. Malik gasped.

"I can't help it!" he whined.

"Precisely. I can't control the color of my hair, like you can't control the color of your eyes."

"Oh. I see. And one more thing, why do you have such a weird name?" Arukab grinned.

"One of the greatest soothsayers ever spelled his name backwards to make it sound more mysterious. Spell Arukab backwards."

"Um…I can't read. Or write. Or spell," Malik mumbled sheepishly. "I've never had parents to teach me, so--."

"That's alright. I never had parents before either," Arukab said.

"Then what's your name?"

"Bakura. My real name is Bakura."

-

A day passed, and Malik and Bakura became closer friends. Bakura taught him the basics of reading and writing, along with a little bit of soothsaying, and soon it came time for Malik to go.

"Wait," Malik begged of the guards who had been commanded to take him, "please. Let me say goodbye to my friend, in case I never see him again." The guards nodded, being strangely compassionate, and Malik hurried to Bakura and Shadow. They said their goodbyes, and Bakura agreed to taking care of Shadow. Malik hugged his cat gently and handed him to Bakura, who stroked him gently to keep him from crying out.

"Oh, and a word of advice, Malik," Bakura added, after flipping the top card of his tarot deck. "Be sure to cover your body with some form of cloth at all times. Don't let the wyvern see your body unless you see his true one first." Malik blinked at the strange words, but thanked him for the advice, then he left.

Malik was forced into the king and queen's chambers, where he saw them sitting on their thrones and looking nervous. Malik glared at them.

"The dragon will be here soon," the king muttered, looking at the hourglass on the table. It was nearly empty. Malik continued glaring, boring an imaginary hole into his head.

He then looked at the hourglass. The last grain of sand fell, and a huge dragon flapped into the room. Malik gasped at the fearsome creature as it stared at him with cruel, gleaming eyes. The wyvern blew out through its nostrils and smoke came out, making the king and queen shudder. Finally, the king stood.

"We've brought you someone," he announced to the wyvern. "Now, keep your promise and lift the curse!" The dragon laughed, a cruel, hissing sound.

"Of course not! The curse will be lifted when this boy doesn't fear me," it replied. "That way I know he won't run off." Malik shivered. He didn't know that wyverns were so cruel-looking, there was no way he was going to not fear this thing. The king gripped Malik's shirt collar.

"You will not fear this thing, you hear me?" he hissed. A large claw appeared at the king's neck.

"You shall not harm him, your majesty," the wyvern murmured, its sharp teeth mere millimeters from the king's ear. "He belongs to me." The king froze and the wyvern pushed him off of Malik. "Well, boy, let's get going," the wyvern said to him, grinning slightly. "I'm sure you'll enjoy your new home." Malik was frozen solid, and the dragon rolled its eyes. Something grabbed Malik's ankle, and the boy let out a cry as the dragon pulled him onto its back with its tail.

"Hold on tight, boy," the wyvern said softly. Malik nodded once, clutching tightly on the dragon's scales. Surprisingly, the wyvern wasn't cold or slimy, or even rough like stone—it was warm and soft. Malik had the urge to close his eyes and fall asleep on the dragon, but he was wide awake as soon as the wyvern gave a screech and flew out the window.

Malik wondered what the wyvern's home was like. A cave, a swamp? Maybe a nest at the top of a tall cliff?

Surprisingly enough, its home was nothing like he'd expected.

They wyvern lived in a castle. An old, abandoned castle, but a castle. They landed smoothly and the dragon gently urged Malik off. It slithered in front of him, folding its claws under its chin. Malik noticed a spot or something shaped like three diagonal lines on its left claw.

"So, boy, what's your name?" the wyvern asked. Malik blinked.

"M-my name?" he stuttered.

"Yes, your name," the dragon said, sounding irritated.

"Malik is my name," Malik said nervously. "Um…do you have a name?" The wyvern chuckled.

"Of course I do. But for now you can call me Wyvern. It's what I am, after all," he said. Malik nodded.

"Okay, then," he muttered nervously. Wyvern chuckled again.

"I'll show you your room here," he said softly and slithered down the hallway towards a large room. Malik quickly followed and he gasped when he saw the huge bedroom. "You can stay in here for now if you wish," Wyvern said, motioning at the bed. "There's clothing in the chest and closet."

"Th-thank you!" Malik sputtered. He'd never dreamt of staying in a room like this one. Wyvern chuckled again and went towards the window.

"I'm going to go hunting," he said. "You can look around if you want to." With that said, Wyvern flew out of the window and into the sky. Malik had to admit that seeing him fly was a great sight, and he wished that he had wings of his own.

Malik walked around the castle and found all sorts of rooms—including the dungeons. They hadn't been used, although. In fact, it seemed as though Wyvern was the only thing living here.

Finally, Wyvern came back with a calf in his claws. Malik felt sickened at the way the calf's neck bent awkwardly. Surprisingly, Wyvern actually skinned the cow, and cut it into proportional sizes before flaming it and eating it. Malik stared with wide eyes and Wyvern smirked.

"Never see a dragon actually prepare meat?" he asked. Malik nodded.

"Shouldn't you just eat it raw?" he asked. "I mean, don't normal dragons do that?" Wyvern laughed.

"Dragons are proper creatures, boy. We all cook our meat," he said with a grin, showing off his long fangs. His ears perked and he pushed some meat towards Malik. "Eat. I heard your stomach," he commanded. Malik was too frightened, yet excited, to eat, but he forced it down anyway. It tasted normal to him, though this was the first time he'd had meat in months. It soon grew late, and Wyvern told Malik to go to bed. Malik immediately agreed—he didn't want to get into a fight with a fire-breathing dragon.

So Malik climbed into his bed and pulled the blanket to his neck. He sighed sadly, thinking of Shadow and Bakura back at home. But he felt that he'd never see them again, not at all. Maybe if he pleaded Wyvern to let him see them every once in a while, maybe…no, Wyvern would never agree to that. He seemed too stubborn.

Malik sighed again and closed his eyes. He soon fell into a peaceful sleep, his dreams filled with Wyvern laughing cruelly as he chained Malik to the wall.

-

Malik was gruffly awoken the next morning when something shoved him lightly. Malik groaned and turned over in the bed, he didn't want to wake up just yet.

"Hey, you idiot," said a voice. Malik paid no attention, he just pulled the blanket to his shoulders even more tightly. "Wake up!" that same voice said again. Now Malik was feeling annoyed. He frowned in his sleep and groaned.

"Five minutes," he muttered incoherently.

"Fine, don't wake up. You can miss breakfast and be hungry until lunch for all I care," the voice grumbled.

"Fine, I won't," Malik mumbled in reply. The voice let out a long sigh, then Malik heard slithering. He ignored it, then the slithering came back again. Suddenly, he felt something soft and light touch his cheek. It moved swiftly, in small lines on his face. Malik giggled, then began laughing. This thing tickled! Finally, he stopped laughing and was wide awake, strangely enough.

"Finally," the voice said. Malik stared up into the eyes of the wyvern, who was holding a feather in one of its front claws. He was about to cry out in surprise, but then he remembered what had happened the day before and he sighed softly.

"Oh. Good morning," he muttered. Wyvern chuckled slightly at his tired expression. Malik yawned and sat up in the bed, stretching tiredly. "Um…how many hours since dawn has it been?" he asked. The dragon looked out the window.

"Probably around four or five," he replied. Malik gasped.

"S-seriously?" he stuttered. He knew that he wasn't supposed to sleep-in, according to the village priest, but Wyvern didn't seem to mind.

"Yes. It doesn't matter, though. I woke up a few minutes ago," he replied, yawning. "Anyway, I have breakfast ready. You can come and eat, if you want to." Malik nodded and followed him to the dining hall, where he saw silver plates filled with eggs, bread, meat, even a strange bread-like food that was flat. Malik blinked.

"How…how did you make all this?" he asked. Wyvern held up his claws so Malik could see them.

"Like you, I also have thumbs," he replied. "The bread and pancakes, however, were given to me." Malik blinked.

"From who?" he asked. Wyvern slithered to the window and pointed out of it with a large claw to what looked like a village.

"From them. They think I'm a god of some sort, so they occasionally give me offerings. Every time I fly over their village or something, I believe," he said.

"Wow," Malik murmured. "Why do they give you offerings, anyway?" Wyvern shrugged.

"They might think me a devil or something. They probably want to keep me from harming them. However, I have no interest in harming anyone at all," he said.

"Then…then why do you scare the king and queen like that? They've never done anything to you, even if they are idiots!" Malik objected. The dragon stared at him through dull eyes. He turned away and looked out of the window.

"You wouldn't understand," he muttered darkly.

"But why do you do it?" Malik continued. Wyvern growled at him, eyes flashing menacingly. Malik gasped and froze solid, inching away from him as tongues of fire flicked out of Wyvern's mouth.

"It does not concern you, boy," Wyvern hissed. "Understand?" Malik winced and nodded. "I'm leaving for the day," Wyvern added, now a bit calmer. "I bid you farewell." With that said, he took wing and flew out of the castle once again. Malik dropped to his knees and curled up, shivering. He felt tears slide down his face slowly, but he ignored them.

Finally, hours later, Wyvern floated in through the window, carrying scrolls and such in his claws. He looked around, then saw Malik sitting next to the window and quivering. He gasped and hurried over to him.

"Malik?" he murmured. "Malik?" he said again when he didn't answer. He gently touched Malik's shoulder, but Malik cried out and pushed himself away.

"Stay away!" he cried, staring at Wyvern with fear-filled eyes. "Don't touch me!" Wyvern stared at him, his eyes widening. He snarled, held his head, and turned away.

"Please," he begged Malik. "Please. Don't cry like that!" Malik seemed not to hear him. He kept crying, but he got softer. "Please," Wyvern said a final time. "I'm sorry. Just don't cry, I beg of you." Malik blinked. He stopped crying, eventually, and stared at Wyvern's winged back.

"W-wyvern?" he muttered. "What's…wrong?" They were both silent for a long moment.

"You don't know what it's like," Wyvern finally muttered. "You don't know what it's like to live like I do. Wherever you go, people stare at you in fear or revulsion. People hate you. No matter what, they always, always do. The village that way only give me offerings so I stay away. Everyone runs into their homes when I fly over any village. People scream when I look at them, even my own parents--!"

"But aren't your parents wyverns as well?" Malik asked. Wyvern growled.

"Never mind that," he whispered. "You could never understand. You're just a boy." Malik sighed softly and looked away shamefully.

"I'm sorry, Wyvern. I wish that I could help you. I guess that I can't," he muttered. Wyvern sighed softly. "And…maybe you're right. I'm still a teenager."

"Malik," Wyvern finally said, looking over his shoulder. "Could you just listen to me?" Malik nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it. I've never been able to talk to anyone in my entire life. You don't…know what it's like to be different." Malik blinked.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" he said softly. "Right here." He touched the area over his heart.

"…Yes, it does," Wyvern said softly. "But…how do you know?"

"I'm an orphan," Malik mumbled. "My parents were killed by an illness. I've lived alone since I was very young. The strange thing is, all my friends abandoned me as soon as my parents died. No one wanted to help me, sometimes they'd laugh or yell at me if I asked for help. They all…they knew about me. That I was different. And it hurt. I learned how to juggle to earn money, and occasionally I'd do…well, stupid things to get a couple of measly coins. I'd smile and laugh, but inside I felt like crying. Is…is that kind of like how you feel?" Wyvern stared at him.

"That…yes, it does feel like that," he muttered. He paused. "I can act as angry as I want…but no matter what, I always feel like sobbing. We aren't so different, then, are we?" Malik smiled.

"Not really," he said. "Um…what were you doing all day?" he asked. Wyvern shrugged.

"Just flying," he replied. "I needed to get it out of my system."

"What do you mean by that?" Malik asked, tilting his head slightly.

"I don't usually fly very much, but sometimes I need to. Otherwise I get jumpy," he said.

"O-oh," Malik muttered. He resisted the urge to giggle slightly. Wyvern was kind of like a child who took things way too seriously, yet was excitable at the same time. He found it funny, in a way. He then looked to the disarranged pile of scrolls lying on the floor.

"Um, what are those for?" he asked Wyvern as he pointed at the scrolls. Wyvern picked one up.

"I saw some people in a cart traveling with a whole bunch of scrolls. A few dropped out, but when I picked them up and tried to give them back they ran off. So I decided to keep them, instead of letting them go to waste," he said.

"Neat," Malik muttered. It was then that he noticed his hunger. He groaned and collapsed to the floor, holding his stomach. Wyvern gasped and hurried to his side. Malik squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he had at least eaten something during the many hours Wyvern was away.

Wyvern tenderly fed Malik some of the food from breakfast that hadn't grown bad or rotten, and Malik ate it eagerly. And best of all, it was all delicious. Back in the village he would've never had the opportunity to eat this kind of food! Finally, when Malik's hunger was satisfied, he closed his eyes and fell asleep right there—right in Wyvern's arms.

Wyvern smiled slightly and gently took Malik to his room, where he carefully lied him down. Malik snuggled into the mattress and blanket, letting out a sigh of content. Wyvern covered his body with one of the blankets and went into his own chambers, where he fell asleep as well.

-

Malik sat in the old throne chair, bundled up in a thick blanket. He was quite bored, but there was nothing better to do. Wyvern floated in through the window, and landed right in front of Malik.

"You weren't gone long today," Malik commented.

"There wasn't anything to do," Wyvern replied. Malik could relate; it _had_ been a long day. And he blamed it on the weather. It was cold, windy and cloudy outside, thus making it impossible to really move at all.

"Oh," Malik muttered. He shivered and pulled the blanket tighter. Wyvern blinked and blew out a stream of fire right into the fireplace and lit the logs inside it. Malik jumped forward and crouched in front of it, warming his hands and body. Wyvern chuckled slightly.

"How do you stand it out here, on such a high altitude?" Malik grumbled. His hometown had been in a short valley, whereas Wyvern's home was in a much higher place.

"I've lived here pretty much my entire life," Wyvern replied. He then gently strung something around Malik's neck. Malik blinked and looked to Wyvern questioningly, touching the necklace of flowers around his neck.

"What's this?" he muttered.

"I managed to find them on the mountain to the west. I thought they'd look nice on you; they do match your eyes, you know," he replied. Malik scowled.

"Just shut up about my eyes! It's not my fault they're this stupid color," he muttered.

"Do you even know what color they are?" Wyvern said. Malik bit his lower lip, averting Wyvern's gaze.

"I…yes. And it's a stupid color!" he managed out.

"Yeah, right. You haven't ever seen your eyes, have you?" Wyvern said. Malik looked away from him again.

"So what if I haven't?" he mumbled. "Everyone else in the village says my eyes are weird. So they must be!"

"Are you sure about that? Aren't you supposed to create your own opinion about yourself?" Wyvern said.

"Just shut up! I don't like my eyes no matter what color they are!" Malik cried, shoving Wyvern away. Wyvern snarled. He turned and slithered so his back was to Malik.

"Say what you want, Malik, I think your eyes are quite beautiful," he said, then began leaving the room. Malik blinked.

"Wait…" he said, stopping Wyvern.

"What do you want?" Wyvern asked, looking over his shoulder at him.

"What color are my eyes, anyway?" Malik asked. Wyvern smirked slightly, chuckling to himself.

"Just look at the flowers," he replied and left the room. Malik looked down and stared at the flowers, taking in their color and hue.

Violet.

-

Malik managed to find Wyvern in the extensive library later. He saw the dragon curled up in a chair and reading a book with interest. Malik almost immediately felt jealous; he still couldn't read fluently, and the only things he knew how to write were his, Bakura, and Shadow's names.

"What're you reading?" Malik asked.

"A book about a man named Seto Kaiba," Wyvern replied.

"What does he do?" Malik asked when Wyvern didn't continue. Wyvern sighed exasperatedly.

"It's a romance," he said. "It's basically how Seto gets together with a man named Jonouchi." Malik snorted with laughter and Wyvern glared slightly. "Oh, shut up. I like this book. You can laugh at some other book, just not this one." Malik stopped snickering and looked away. "Oh. I see. You can't read, can you?" Wyvern asked.

"Well, I can't read much. Baku—I mean, Arukab—taught me a few words while I was in the dungeon with him," Malik said, a bit embarrassed. Wyvern blinked.

"I see," he said again. "Well, do you want me to teach you?" Malik stared at him.

"You would?" he asked. "Seriously?" Wyvern nodded.

"Of course. Sit down—we can get started now if you'd like," he said. Malik sat down and Wyvern got out a scroll and a thin stick. He carefully flamed the tip so it was black with ashes. "You see, Malik, to know how to write is to know how to read. So we'll start with writing, okay?" Malik nodded and Wyvern handed him another flamed stick. Wyvern showed Malik how to write different letters and words alike, and Malik learned quite fast.

"You'll have to remember all of these, of course," Wyvern said.

"I know," Malik said.

"Then recite the alphabet to me, without looking at the scroll," Wyvern said, rolling it up. Malik nodded and began reciting it.

"X, y, z," he finished. Wyvern nodded.

"Good! That was absolutely perfect," he said. Malik grinned. They continued working until late in the night, and Malik was reading fluently now.

"Thanks so much, Wyvern!" he said, gently tugging Wyvern into a hug. Wyvern smiled slightly and Malik pulled away. "I'm so glad I can finally read now. Thanks again!"

"No problem." Wyvern looked out the window and gasped. "It's late, we should get to bed." Malik nodded in agreement, rubbing his eyes and yawning. They bid each other a good night, went to their rooms, and climbed into bed.

Later in the night, Malik found himself shivering violently. He wrapped himself in blankets, but they didn't help. He sighed softly and rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm himself, but it didn't work. Finally, he gave up and walked to Wyvern's room. The dragon wasn't exactly asleep as well.

"What is it?" Wyvern asked, looking to Malik.

"I-it's freezing in my room. C-can I stay here the night?" he asked. Wyvern sighed and nodded.

"Fine," he said. "Just don't keep me up too late."

"Thank you," Malik said, climbing into Wyvern's bed. He carefully scooted closer to him and when Wyvern looked at him to see what he was doing, Malik acted asleep.

Wyvern smiled slightly. He absolutely loved this boy, and he didn't deny it. Of course, it could never work out. They were entirely different species, after all. But Wyvern could always admire him from afar, though inside he wished that he could be human enough to be with this boy.

-

The next morning, Malik was pleased to discover that Wyvern was giving him a new room near the center of the castle, where the least wind reached. He thanked him gratefully, of course, and even hugged him. After all, Wyvern was kind of like a bigger, dragon-like version of Shadow, and Malik hugged Shadow all the time.

Later in the day, however, Malik felt quite depressed. He sat, staring out the window. The sun was shining on him, so it wasn't all that cold. He sighed softly and Wyvern came into the room.

"Is something wrong? You seem depressed," Wyvern asked, slithering next to him. Malik sighed again.

"I just miss Arukab and Shadow," he said softly. Wyvern looked at him questioningly. "Oh. Um, Arukab was in the same dungeon I was in, and Shadow's my pet cat. Arukab's just taking care of him." Wyvern looked out the window as well and contemplated Malik's words.

"Then do you wish to see them?" he murmured. Malik gasped.

"Y-you'd let me do that?" he asked incredulously. Wyvern nodded.

"You shouldn't be deprived of your friends," he replied. Malik grinned and hugged him again.

"Thank you so much, Wyvern!" he said happily. Just a moment later, Wyvern was flying out the window with Malik on his back. Malik grinned, totally forgetting of the cold, early-winter winds. He closed his eyes and took in the feeling of the wind against his face. He absolutely loved flying, it was a great feeling.

Finally, they landed in the village. Wyvern let Malik climb off his back.

"I'll circle around above so no one sees me. Wave when you find them; I'd like to meet him, if that's alright with you," Wyvern said. Malik nodded and ran into the town, looking for Bakura.

After an hour of searching the entire town, he finally came to the edge of the castle. Along the edge there were viewports for the prisoners in the dungeons, so they could gaze out at the free world and wish they hadn't committed a crime.

A pure-black cat dashed past him and to one of the viewports. Malik gasped. Was that…

"Good, good job, Shadow!" said a familiar voice. "Thank you. We'll share it inside before it can get colder." Malik hurried over to it and the cat meowed and ran towards him. Malik grinned and scooped Shadow up.

"Bakura!" Malik said, kneeling in front of the window. Bakura gasped.

"Malik! What are you doing here? Weren't you with the wyvern?" he asked. Malik nodded.

"He's allowing me to visit you and Shadow," he explained, setting Shadow down. "Why are you still in there?" Bakura chuckled grimly.

"The king and queen forgot about me. They haven't fed me or anything for the last week," he said. Malik gasped. "Don't worry though, Shadow's been stealing food for me, and himself, of course."

"Thank the gods that you at least have a way to get food. Well, I'm gonna bust you outta there!" Malik said, and Shadow jumped into the dungeon. "Wait a moment." Malik waved Wyvern down and the dragon landed near the dungeon window.

"You found them?" Wyvern asked. Malik nodded.

"They're in there. Do you think you could get them out? The king and queen aren't letting them go, and Arukab can't get any food," he said. Wyvern snarled.

"Those imbeciles," he growled. "And people wonder why I hate the king and queen." He first ordered Bakura and Shadow to get back, then he flamed the iron bars so they were weakened. He then wrapped his tail around them and yanked with all his might, successfully detaching the red-hot bars from the castle. Malik helped Bakura and Shadow out.

Bakura brushed himself off, grinning.

"Thank you, both of you. It was quite dull in there," he said, picking up his bag of items.

"No problem, but Wyvern did most of the work," Malik replied. Bakura chuckled and turned to Wyvern.

"It's an honor to meet a real wyvern like you," he said. "And it is an incredible honor to be rescued by you as well. Thank you, you truly are every bit magnificent as I imagined you to be." He bowed humbly.

"Look…" Wyvern muttered a bit uncomfortably. "Uh, don't bow to me like that. I'm not…royal or anything."

"But you live in a castle. And you know a lot about the king and queen," Malik pointed out. Bakura smirked.

"I see. Wyvern, may I speak with you for a moment? In private?" he requested. Malik blinked and Wyvern nodded. He and Bakura moved to a different area, away from Malik, who sat down and waited.

"Are you him?" Bakura asked. Wyvern blinked.

"Who?" he replied.

"You know who I'm speaking of. Him. The king and queen's dead son." Wyvern gasped.

"How did you know?" he hissed in a whisper. "How did you figure that out?"

"Please," Bakura said. "The queen gave birth to a dragon, a wyvern. She tossed him out the tower because she believed him to be a monster. I was there, I saw you falling from the window." Wyvern growled and looked away.

"It means nothing. That was the past. It doesn't matter any longer." Bakura chuckled.

"Do you think it was your fault you're like this?" he muttered. Wyvern blinked.

"What…?" He tilted his head to one side.

"It wasn't your fault at all, Wyvern. And believe me, all my life since that moment I've wanted to meet you."

"And why is that?"

"Simply to tell you that it wasn't your fault. Oh, and if you're wondering how you survived the fall and got to the castle, you could ask my mentor. But he's dead. You landed on him, and he took you there out of kindness."

"That doesn't mean a thing!" Wyvern snapped. Bakura chuckled.

"What I'm trying to say is that if people would just get the chance to know you, they wouldn't hate you. They'd look past your appearance, and accept you for who you are. You just haven't given anyone a chance," he said. Wyvern wrinkled his snout in annoyance.

"Like I'd even have the chance to actually get someone to listen to me," he hissed.

"Say what you want, Wyvern," Bakura said, shaking his head slowly, "but just try it. Oh, and by the way, my real name is Bakura. Not Arukab." Wyvern looked up.

"Just like that famous soothsayer, eh?" he said, grinning slightly. Bakura chuckled.

"Exactly," he replied. "Well, I suppose we should return to Malik. He must be bored. May I tell him of your…family?"

"No, I'd prefer that you not, actually," Wyvern said. "He wouldn't…understand." Bakura snorted.

"He's smarter than you think, Wyvern. He could easily be the wisest person in this land, despite the fact that he's still a teen. Don't underestimate him," he warned. Wyvern shrugged and they returned to Malik, who had fallen asleep against the castle with Shadow lying across his lap. Bakura awoke him, and Malik slowly opened his eyes. He yawned and stretched tiredly.

"What'd I miss?" he asked sleepily. Bakura and Wyvern chuckled.

"Nothing much. We should get back to the castle soon, although," Wyvern advised. "It's getting late." Malik nodded and stood. Shadow jumped onto his shoulders, but Malik took him off.

"Bakura, I think that you'd better keep Shadow, if that's not a problem. He likes it better outside, y' know what I mean?" Malik said. Bakura nodded and took the cat from Malik's hands.

"He's in good hands, Malik. I promise," he said. Malik smiled gratefully, petted his cat for a final time, and climbed onto Wyvern's back. They flew to the castle, and by then Malik had fallen asleep. Wyvern carried him into his room like he'd done before, and blanketed his body tenderly. Malik sighed softly in his sleep and snuggled into the pillows. Wyvern smiled and left the room and went into his own for the night.

-

"Wha-huh?" Malik said dumbly, blushing and staring at Wyvern with wide eyes. He didn't know what had sparked this odd conversation, and he wanted it to stop.

"I want to see you," Wyvern murmured again, staring into Malik's eyes. "Without your clothes, that is. I want to see how beautiful you really are." Malik blushed even more.

"B-but…isn't that a little…strange?" he muttered. Wyvern slid next to him and hugged him gently.

"Just this once, and never again. I promise," he murmured into Malik's ear. Malik felt himself sweating. He wasn't used to Wyvern acting like this at all.

"But why?" he asked.

"I love you," Wyvern whispered. "I don't care if we're different than each other. I love you more than anything." Malik froze. He felt his sweat sliding down his face, making him feel ticklish there, but he didn't dare move. He was too surprised to.

"Please," he heard Wyvern say. "I just want this once. And I won't try anything I swear." Malik gulped, but he didn't want to hurt Wyvern's emotions.

Suddenly, Bakura's words came slamming into his mind.

"_Don't let the wyvern see your body unless you see his true one first."_

"_All I can tell you is that the queen should have listened to me seventeen years ago. 'Never eat onions unless you've peeled them.' That's what I told her."_

Malik pondered to himself about it. He looked to Wyvern.

"Only on one condition," he said stubbornly. Wyvern blinked.

"What is the condition?" he asked.

"For every garment of clothing I take off, you need to shed a layer of skin. Understand?" Malik said. Wyvern blinked again.

"Okay, I suppose," he muttered. Malik nodded once and went to the bedroom. He wore as much clothing as he could find, even the largest sizes. He came back out, moving awkwardly, and stood in front of Wyvern.

"Okay, first you shed some skin," Malik commanded. Wyvern shed his top layer of skin, and as promised, Malik removed his shirt. "Now shed some again, until one of us runs out." He grinned slightly.

"Hmph. I'll never run out of skin," Wyvern grumbled, finding the activity quite stupid. This continued for a long while, and Wyvern regretted not giving up. He was quite tired from all this shedding, and Malik seemed to be wearing and endless amount of clothing.

Finally, Malik was down to his last piece of clothing. It was dark outside, yet warm, strangely enough. So Malik wasn't freezing, at least. He looked to Wyvern, who had turned a very light green color.

"Well, just shed one last layer of skin," Malik said. Wyvern nodded and began shedding. But something was different. The skin was coming off strangely, and it seemed too thick. Malik gasped and watched as a mist of green came out of what was once Wyvern's skin and swirled around. He began crying.

"Oh—oh gods. I never meant to—I'm so--!" But he couldn't finish a single sentence. He was much too startled, and sad. He could have just removed his clothing, but he had to challenge Wyvern to this. He just _had_ to make him shed his final layer of skin, thus killing him. Malik fell to his knees, staring at the mist. "No, no, no, no, no…" he whispered. Malik squeezed his eyes shut and tears fell freely. He sobbed loudly, holding his face in his hands.

He didn't see the mist anymore.

He didn't want to.

But while he cried, the mist began to shape. It began to color itself entirely new things, and at first it was small. But then the old skins became mist as well, and they surrounded this strange, misty-thing that floated before Malik. The mist combined, and there was a bright flash of pure white light. Malik noticed the light as it brightened, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut and look away, but he still ended up not being able to see.

"Malik," said a soft, caring voice. Malik gasped. He looked around, though his eyes were useless at the moment.

"Wh-who's there?" he mumbled. He felt hands on his shoulders, then he felt someone strong hugging him firmly. Malik felt his eyes begin working again, he blinked a few times, and looked around.

He saw a man with tall, spiky, blonde hair holding him tightly. His skin was tan, but Malik couldn't see his eyes just yet. He had an odd birthmark on his left hand, shaped like three slash marks. This man was wearing a green dress suit, with golden decorations on it.

Malik pulled away and gazed into the man's eyes. Actually, this man was more of a teen who appeared a bit older than Malik.

"Who are you?" Malik asked cautiously. The teen smiled, tears in his eyes.

"Wyvern. You…you made me into a human. You freed me," he whispered. Malik gasped.

"Are you really…are you really Wyvern?" he mumbled, disbelieving. The teen nodded. And then Malik really noticed his eyes.

They were violet, just like his own.

Malik stared into them with wide eyes, mouth open in disbelief.

"Wyvern…how did…why are…you're human!" Malik stumbled over the right words.

"Yes, because of you," Wyvern muttered, kneeling next to him. Malik wrapped his arms around him tightly.

"Tell me your real name!" he whispered. "Please! I want to know it!" Wyvern paused.

"I…when I was becoming human…I heard a word in my mind. It sounded like…it sounded like 'Marik,'" he muttered.

"Then that must be your name! Oh, Wyvern—I mean, Marik—I…I love you too," Malik whispered into Marik's ear. "And I want you to tell me everything. Every little secret you've kept from me, every little detail of your life. Everything, please." Marik nodded and they pulled away. Malik and Marik gazed at each other through tear-filled, yet overjoyed, eyes and pulled into a gentle kiss.

"Alright," Marik muttered when they were done kissing. "I'll tell you everything."

-

"So…" Malik muttered, "your parents are actually the king and queen??" Marik nodded and Malik stared at him. "So that would make you prince!"

"Please, I don't even know how I'm related to those idiots," Marik said with a scowl. "I don't know if I even _want_ to be prince. It seems like a dull job."

"But you deserve to become prince after what they did to you," Malik pointed out.

"I suppose, but I don't want to be their child," Marik said, sitting back in his seat. Malik blinked.

"But it was the queen's fault," he said. Marik looked at him oddly.

"I doubt that she did this on purpose," he muttered.

"She didn't, but she didn't listen to Bakura's advice. So technically, she did do it on purpose without even realizing it," Malik said.

"And what did Bakura tell her?"

"He said, 'Never eat onions unless you've peeled them,'" Malik said. "So since she didn't listen, you were born a wyvern rather than what you are now."

"So I was a wyvern because of some stupid onion?" Marik said dully. Malik laughed and nodded. "Okay, that isn't okay. At all. I despise onions now." Marik pouted slightly and Malik hugged him gently.

"It wasn't the onion's fault. The queen was the one who ate it!" he said, grinning.

"Whatever. I still hate them," Marik said. He grinned, laughed, and hugged Malik back. "Why are you even trying to convince me to become prince?"

"Because you should and you deserve to," Malik said. Marik thought a moment.

"Do you…do you miss your home?" he asked. Malik gasped, he looked away.

"Y-yeah. I miss Shadow and Bakura…heck, I even miss the fish monger who never accepted my money!" he muttered softly. "I guess that I do want to go back." Marik smiled at him warmly.

"Okay, then we'll go there," he said. "But don't blame me if the king and queen don't let me be prince."

"You know…they're really old. You could be king if you go back," Malik said, nudging him with an elbow. Marik laughed.

"If they die, that is," he said. "Well, let's go back. Even if I don't become prince or whatever." Malik nodded, smiling.

-

After a long walk, Marik and Malik finally found themselves at the front of the castle.

"I dunno. If they don't believe me, they'll press a red-hot spoon to my tongue, you know," Marik said nervously.

"Yeah, but we should still try," Malik replied.

"Hey!" called a familiar voice. Malik and Marik turned around and blinked.

"Bakura?" Malik asked. Bakura walked up to him, with Shadow sitting on his shoulder.

"What are you doing back here? And where's Wyvern?" he asked. Malik grinned.

"I'm Wyvern," Marik said.

"And you were right about the whole 'don't let him see your body until you see his' thing," Malik added.

"Really?" Bakura said, grinning. "Well, that's good to hear. Is your name still Wyvern, then?"

"No, actually. My name is Marik."

"I see, so you're going to convince the king and queen that you're their son?" Bakura asked. Marik and Malik nodded. Marik had already explained to Malik that Bakura knew, so Malik didn't ask any questions. "Well, I won't hold you two up any longer. Good luck, and if they don't believe you and use that old red-hot-spoon-on-your-tongue thing, just wet your mouth a bit. The spoon won't stick, believe me." They waved and Bakura left.

Marik and Malik stepped into the castle. The guard raised his spear and held it out so he was blocking Marik and Malik's path.

"Halt! Who are you?" the guard demanded.

"I'm the guy they sent to the dragon. We're here to tell the king and queen what happened recently," Malik said.

"I see," the guard said. "Well then, go on." He moved his spear back to his side and Marik and Malik walked down the corridor to the throne room. The king sat up and the queen gasped.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Sir," Malik said, bowing, "This man is your son." The king gasped.

"Impossible. My son is…is dead," he whispered. Marik scowled.

"Oh, so that's the excuse you gave the people? That's what you told them instead of the truth?" he growled.

"But I…I threw him out the window! Of course he's dead!" the king insisted.

"You cast your own son out of the window??!" Malik exclaimed. "That…you're sick!"

"He wasn't even human, you fool!" the queen screeched. "He was…a monster!" Marik recoiled as if he'd been slapped. Malik glared at her.

"He was not, you idiot!" he yelled, and the queen, like Marik, recoiled as if she'd been slapped. _No one_ called the _queen_ an _idiot_!

"I don't know how you escaped from that beast, but you're in no position to call my wife an idiot, orphan!" the king barked. "Unless you have solid proof, leave this throne room!" Malik bit his lower lip, but Marik held up his left hand, glaring. The king and queen gasped.

"Look at my hand," Marik muttered. "Surely you remember a deep-green claw with three slash marks on it grabbing you by the throat, do you? That was my claw. And when I became human, I kept those marks." There was a moment of silence, a moment that stretched and stretched forever.

"Th-the dragon had that same mark," the queen muttered. "I remember them!"

"Then you…you are the dragon!" the king added. Marik returned his hand to his side.

"Of course I am—was. Malik, could you please tell them how and why I was born as a wyvern?" he asked. Malik nodded and explained to the king and queen—especially the queen—that since she didn't take Bakura's advice to peel the onion before she ate it, Marik was born that way.

"So technically speaking," Malik finished, "it was _your_ fault that you closed your ears to Bakura and ate the onion without peeling it, thus making your son into a dragon."

The king sat back in his seat with a slight thump, staring into space.

"Lords above," he muttered. "So _that's_ why it happened." Malik nodded.

"Exactly," he said, grinning slightly.

"So it was because of an onion—some _stupid_ onion—that I didn't have a son for seventeen years," the queen muttered. "Wyvern…will you accept my apology?" Marik blinked.

"You're…apologizing?" he muttered, slightly wary.

"Yes. It was my fault that you weren't born human," she said.

"Then…yes, I accept it," Marik said. "I'm not all mean, you know. And my name is Marik, by the way."

"Thank you," the queen said, bowing.

"And if you wish, you can become king as well," the king added. Marik and Malik both blinked.

"But you're not dead yet," Malik said, pointing out the obvious. The king chuckled.

"We're old. And we both want to retire. We were speaking of it just last night," he explained. "We'd…really, we'd do anything just to get out of this job."

"Only on one condition," Marik stated. "I'll only become king if you allow me to marry Malik. And he gets to rule as well." The king and queen blinked. Malik blushed slightly.

"But…" the queen started. "Aren't you both…men?"

"So?" Marik said bluntly. "You _do_ want to get out of this job, do you?"

"Then you have my blessing," the king said. Marik laughed out loud, grinning.

"I would've become king anyway, since if I was king I could do what I want," he said. The king chuckled, sweatdropping.

"Then Marik, my son, come kneel before me." Marik did as he said and bowed his head. The king used a sword to touch both of Marik's shoulders. "You are the one to follow in my footsteps, the one I choose to rule this land. Will you do what you believe is right, and guide the people to help make this land great?" he said, following the ancient scriptures.

"I will," Marik murmured.

"Then I promote you as king. Rise, lord Marik," the king said. Marik rose to his feet and looked his father in the eye. "Take my seat in the throne, and rule this land like a true king should." He removed his circlet and attempted to place it on Marik's head. Marik chuckled slightly.

"I can get a crown that fits, father," he said. "Give that one to Malik. It'll work with his hair better."

"Okay then," Marik's father said. He did the same with Malik and placed the circlet on his head.

"You can stay in the castle if you wish," Marik offered his parents.

"Well, for the time being," the queen replied. "I want to move someplace warmer." Marik laughed slightly and sat down, along with Malik, who kept touching the circlet in excitement. The king and queen left the room and went to their own.

"We might need an advisor," Malik muttered.

"True," Marik replied. He looked at Malik. "Who were you thinking of?" he asked.

"Bakura, actually," Malik replied with a grin. "He's smart, and he knows how to read tarot cards." Marik nodded. He called for the guards, and they came.

"Inform the man called Ba—I mean, Arukab the soothsayer—that the king wants to see him," he said. "And also inform the goldsmith to come over as well."

"Yes, your majesty," the guard said, bowing. He left the room. Thirty minutes later, the goldsmith came. Marik had him measure his head and such, and gave him the basic description of the crown he wanted. The goldsmith left, then another thirty minutes passed. Bakura walked into the room a few minutes later, with Shadow perched on his shoulder. He gasped.

"You two are king and…king?" he asked. Marik and Malik grinned and nodded.

"Yeah," Malik said. "We were wondering if you'd like to become our advisor." Bakura gasped again, his eyes wide.

"Me? You advisor?" he asked. "You're not joking?"

"We wouldn't kid around with you, Bakura," Marik said. "And we owe you our thanks. Without your advice, I wouldn't be human."

"Of course I'll be your advisor! But…will you allow a man named Ryou to join me?" he added the last part quietly.

"Who is this Ryou?" Marik asked.

"He's a man I met just yesterday. Apparently he was new in town, and asked me for directions. He noticed me limping—I'd slipped on a staircase the other day—and he actually healed my leg. I…well, we fell in…in love," Bakura said, blushing.

"Of course he can come," Malik said with a smile. Bakura grinned.

"Th-thank you," he mumbled, bowing swiftly and dropping Shadow. Shadow growled and held his tail up.

A bit later, Bakura came back with Ryou and the goldsmith delivered the crown to Marik. It was a perfect fit, and Marik looked great in it. Malik even squealed and tackled him to the ground in front of the guards, Bakura, Ryou, and even the goldsmith, who swiftly left.

Malik kissed Marik lovingly, and Marik kissed him back as well. Bakura, now that he was advisor, dismissed the guards and he and Ryou left the room, just in case Marik and Malik decided to "take things to the next level."

Marik and Malik pulled away.

"Malik…" Marik murmured, "I love you." Malik smiled and kissed him again, gently this time.

"I love you too," he murmured back.

Marik held Malik close to his body, so close that he could feel his breath against his skin. Malik smiled and rested his head in the crook of Marik's neck.

"You're gonna make a great ruler," he murmured.

"Why do you say that?" Marik replied. Malik smiled even more.

"You'll know how to treat those who are different than everyone else." Marik smiled slightly and stroked Malik's back.

"Yeah, I guess I do," he whispered.

-

And so ends our tale, everyone. Now you all know to always, always, always peel your onion before you eat it, and to look past the layers of those who are different than you. Live by these rules, and you are guaranteed to be the best you can be.

End

Mew: Sorry for the crappy ending. -sweatdrop- Please R&R!


End file.
